


Vampires Will Never Hurt You (unless you want them to)

by Littlemouse_04



Series: Only Slightly Shitty [8]
Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: BDSM-like, Other, Threesome - M/M/M, Vampires, oneshot- possibly to be continued
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-22 00:49:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14297160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlemouse_04/pseuds/Littlemouse_04
Summary: If you have grown up being told not to do something, who can blame you for being a little curious?





	Vampires Will Never Hurt You (unless you want them to)

**Author's Note:**

> It is 2 am. I am overthinking everything and questioning my existence, my sexuality (again) and simultaneously trying to plan out my entire future.
> 
> BUT I saw Love, Simon today!...yesterday? And I am still speechless. I cried nine times and I genuinely think it is the greatest film I have ever seen.  
> Hell yeah, 20gayteen. 
> 
> Oh hey! I think this is my first non-peterick!

"Don't walk by the warehouse at night"

That is what every child had been told since the day they were born, for what must be centuries.  
Of course, there were rumours, but the real reason must have become lost as it was passed through generations. If you ask why, it is always the same response: "We just want you to stay safe."

Apparently 'staying safe' didn't include being educated on what you needed to stay safe _from_. Bullshit.

Ever since Patrick was a little boy, he had been warned away from the warehouse downtown. He had generally just accepted that as a rule, just like all the other children, but he always wondered what could be hiding in those four, towering walls.

There had been instances where people had simply gone missing from bars all around the warehouse. Going into 'trance-like states' and just leaving, never to be seen again.

His friends had teased him, always saying shit like "It's where the babadook lives- didn't you know?" or, "Crazy fukin sex parties. We just don't want little 'Trick here to get corrupted. He is far too innocent." (That usually got the response of a punch to the shoulder and an irritated "You dick.")

It wasn't until the night of his eighteenth birthday that he admitted his slight obsession with the place. Pete had spent a shit load of money on booze that he gave to everyone (Patrick noticed he had a lot more hangovers since moving in with his best friend), and consequently, Patrick had gotten pretty shitfaced as he still hadn't figured out his tolerance yet.  
"Sso, y'know that...that warehouse? Yeah, well I-I reaaally wanna go there cuz my mom always said it was dangerous, but, like, I'm a _man_ now! Fuck the rules right?"

Joe snorted out a laugh, "Is that really your only rebellious impulse? To, what, disprove a rumour that we decided was bullshit when we were ten years old? Come on, Patrick! Live a little!"

"Fuck you! S'my birthday and I get to decide how much or how little I live, thank you very much."

And with that, the group drunkenly stumbled out of the apartment and headed downtown.  
===========================================================

"Wow. This is soooo fun. Thanks, Patrick!"

"Shut up, Joe, Jesus Christ."

"You know I'm Jewish."

"Fuck off."

The small group was somewhat loitering nearby the warehouse, in the cold, waiting for something, _anything_ to happen.  
Of course, it didn't so Patrick concluded that everything he had been told was a lie and despondently started towards the apartment.

But... when he looked back one last time... he swore he saw someone in the warehouse watching him. A curtain swung closed and the person was gone; Patrick just kept on walking.  
===============

Since that night, Patrick couldn't get the figure out of his head. Tall, broad-shouldered, blond hair reflecting the moonlight. Patrick only really thought he was attracted to girls but when he woke up for the third time with sticky sheets after a dream about the stranger... he might have to reconsider.

He felt compelled to go back to the warehouse. It was like an itch underneath layers of skin that he could never get rid of. It subsequently made him more irritable and after the third time someone asked him what had got "his panties in a twist", he threw down his book, growled "I'm going out", and all but fled the building.

While his brain was occupied, his body was on autopilot- and guess where he ended up.  
The encroaching shadows of the warehouse seemed to swallow him up and pull him in, leading him to the alley by the side where one single lamp buzzed and flickered.

Patrick hadn't even heard the door open when A voice greeted him.  
"Hello, Patrick. We have been waiting for you."

"Oh, holy shit. Wait, we? Patrick? how did you..."

"Don't question it. just know that you have been of interest for some time now."  
A hand landed on Patrick's shoulder and he was pulled inside the warehouse.  
======================================================

The room was dark and dimly lit when they entered, but soon candles burst into life.

It was like a constellation- clusters of candles all burning together on nearly every surface in the room. The only things uncovered were two sofas and an armchair, occupied by another man who was leaning forward, staring intently at Patrick, who couldn't quite bring himself to look away.

An almost reassuring palm was pressed against his lower back, guiding him towards the sofa closest to the armchair.  
The previously silent man stands up and Patrick isn't sure whether to laugh or run the fuck away because, though this man is short, he looks intimidating in a kind of sexy way? Look, Patrick only just had his gay sexual awakening, cut him some slack.

"I see you have met Bob. I'm Frank. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Patrick."

"Uuuuh, thanks? Not really sure what is going on here."

"Ah, yes. Well, Bob and I have been watching you for a few years now and we were intrigued by you. Not many people are that interested in this place. And, I must say, not many people are a beautiful as you are, my dear."

Frank's smooth words encircled Patrick and his mind felt foggy as if he suddenly _needed_ to be closer to Frank- so he didn't pull away when Frank gently took his hand and pressed a kiss to it. If anything, Patrick shivered and almost unnoticeably moved further to Frank, Bob's hand still pressed against him.

A part of him knew it wasn't safe but a much larger part, one hazy with tempered lust and desire to obey the two men, told him to stay.

"We believe you are special, Patrick," Bob murmured into the shorter's ear," and we would like to offer you a place in our... group."  
Patrick could feel what seemed like teeth at his neck, sharp and dangerous, but Patrick felt totally at ease, pressing backwards into Bob's space, pulling Frank with him who circled Patrick's waist with his arms before inhaling close to his neck.

"We can make you immortal Patrick, just like us, Your life will become one of eternal bliss, here with us, if only you will let us."

Frank could feel Patrick's hesitation without him giving an answer so he flashed a coy grin, and captured Patrick's lips with his own, deep and messy.

" _Then let us convince you~_ "  
=========================================

Pete had been pacing the apartment in a whirlwind of worry, anger, and fear.

_Where was Patrick?  
Was he ok?  
Why didn't he come home last night?_

So when the front door opened, Pete sprinted towards it, disappointed to find Joe.

"He's still not back?"   
Pete's pleading, desperate eyes were enough of an answer.

Just as Joe engulfed him in a comforting hug, the door opened once again and Patrick tumbled through the door, a sleepy smile on his face, and a large bruise on his neck where Pete could swear he saw bite marks.  
Patrick also had lines around his wrists, as if he'd been... handcuffed?  
Fuck.

"Where the _hell_ were you?  
"Jeez, sorry mom."  
"No. You don't get to do that. Believe it or not, I actually care about you and I was worried _sick_ when you didn't come back last night. Fuck, Patrick. Don't do that."

 

\--

Over the next few days, Pete noticed Patrick changing. He looked paler, went out every night, only to show up with more bruises in the morning- the one on his neck still having not faded.  
In all honesty, it scared him.

In the next month, Patrick only spent about had of it at the apartment. He looked gaunt but happier than ever and Pete could only assume that it was because of wherever he went every night- sometimes not returning for days at a time. It worried him.

Pete had realised that this had all begun the night they went to the warehouse. Patrick had been annoyed the whole of the next day, disappearing and suddenly becoming blissfully happy? It just didn't seem right.

He was ambling to the kitchen when Patrick's voice snaked from a cracked open door-

"- yeah? I can't wait to see you (*giggling*). I have been wearing it since last night- you told me not to take it off...sir."  
The coy tone of Patrick's voice made Pete immeasurably more curious. Who was he talking to?

"Wait, you got them? Oh my God I love you. O negative? You got me my favourite... I will make it up to you I promise. I haven't fed for so long. We can play with them later, baby. Tell Frankie I'm on my way over and to prepare the room. I love you."

_Oh. "Feeding?" What did he mean? It sounded ominous but kind of suggestive. Were these people the ones causing all of the bruises?_

Pete was going to find out.  
==================

He waited for twenty minutes when he heard the door open as it did almost every night, and another three before sneaking out himself.  
He could see Patrick weaving his way through the empty streets.  
Pete almost snorted at what he was wearing.  
A long black overcoat, black platform boot, black skinny jeans, and a loose, ripped t-shirt. Around his neck was what looked to be a leather collar with a tag on it, like Patrick was a dog and his owner had claimed him- putting their name on him like a brand.

Pete silently followed him all the way...downtown.  
His suspicions were confirmed when Patrick stopped before the warehouse where two men swiftly appeared from the shadows,

The taller of the men stepped forcefully to Patrick, grabbing him round the back of his neck and swooping down to capture Patrick in a biting kiss while the other, shorter man smirked and circled the pair before setting behind Patrick and whispering into Patrick's ear.  
In the silence of the night, Pete could hear Patrick's answering moan but any thoughts were cut off when the taller grabbed Patrick's ass, yanking him closer, kissing deeper, and the shorter wrapped his arms around Patrick's middle, burying his face in Patrick's neck. The kiss broke with a wet noise and a satisfied moan before both of the strangers leant to bite at Patrick's neck. His moan was loud and clear but it turned into a sort of feral growl. That's when Pete noticed how the other men kept swallowing, mouths blood red. And then he saw Patrick's blissed-out face... and his fangs.

Suddenly all of the previously absurd jokes about the 'vampires of the warehouse' didn't seem so implausible. They were true. And they had taken his best friend.

Pete didn't know how long he had been stood in shock but when he looked up, there were ropes around Patrick's wrists and all men were smiling at each other. The two strangers grasped the rope and started leading Patrick into the warehouse with promises of a new "toy" to play with. 

Pete was left in the darkness. Alone.  
Patrick didn't come home that night. nor the night after that, or after that, or after that.  
==========================================================

After three years without their best friend, Joe and Pete decided to move to the state over.

Years and years later, once Joe had moved on and had a wife and children, who were nearing their teens now, Pete decided to return to the city of his youth.

He found his way to a bar- streetlights in the background seemingly pointing him in that direction.

Minutes after entering the establishment, Pete looked around, seeing two slightly familiar men in their early twenties... and an 18-year-old Patrick sat in their lap, a chain leash round his neck, wearing a corset and a sharp smirk. He hadn't aged a day.

He kissed both of his masters quickly, before flashing a wink at a shell-shocked Pete and setting his gaze on a young man, short, tanned, tattooed.   
His eyes flashed and the young man suddenly was walking intently to Patrick who just smiled gently at him, licking his lips, then the four men turned and walked out of the bar.

Heading downtown.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't read through this (I passed out halfway through writing this, lmao).
> 
> I might write a smut oneshot about the trio later on but I'm not promising anything.  
> I know this was bad, and I'm sorry, but I can't really bring myself to care.


End file.
